Monday, December 28, 2009

Fill in the blank: "I never thought I would_________, but I did." (Feel free to explain!)

"I never thought I would feel sorry for my ex-mother-in-law, but I did."

My ex-mother-in-law is a two-faced, self-centered bitch and with the exception of my ex-husband, I have never been hurt so much by one person. This is a woman who welcomed me into her life and then kicked me out again without a second thought. Knowing her son was betraying me and keeping quiet about it was the ultimate F**k you.

I used to wish awful, horrible things on this woman because I blamed her as much as her son for the deterioration of my first marriage. I knew it was wrong to hate another person, but she betrayed my trust and it would take years for me to ever forgive. I will never forget, but I have forgiven. Especially after the unthinkable happened...

After years of wishing horrible things on this woman, her bad deeds finally caught up with her. While working alone one night, a man came into her place of business and beat the holy crap out of her.

When I found out about this incident, I felt horrible. A wave of empathy washed over me and I released my hatred for this woman. Although she is still at the top of my s**t list, now I only feel sorry for her. And I have repented - I no longer wish horrible things on other people, trying instead to "turn the other cheek."

Sunday, December 27, 2009

I spent my high school years dating only one boy. We ended up married while I was still a senior and our first child was born 3 years later. As with most marriages of very young teenagers, ours lasted only 6 years, but produced 2 of my beautiful daughters. In an attempt to exorcise the demons of my past, this poem is dedicated to my lost childhood.

Just when I should have beenhaving the time of my life,I thought I wasn't completeunless I hadthat one perfect someone to call my own.Instead of hanging out with my friends,I was caught in the loopof pleasing my man.My heart would beat faster as each class bell rang,knowing we could steal brief momentsfor kissing out in the hall.Scheduling our after school timeso we were always together,in hindsight was probably not the thing to do,but the excitement and joyand tummy butterflieswere a high we both sought to obtain.

Did the good outweigh the bad?Obviously it did because we ended up together,at least for a short time.The problem is, it wasn't enoughto satisfy that need we had deep down inside,the need for something more,something special to fulfill an aching need.So, we crashed and burned,down in flames in a magnificent bonfireof heated words,angry acquisitions,finger pointing andscreams.Two lives torn apart, two souls ripped asunder,but the fallout damage affected much moreand it would be years before the collateral was known.

Looking back, the path is quiet clear,even a child could see the course;so why was I too blind at the timeto not see the outcomewhen it was right before my eyes?I guess love really is blindand it has the ability to swoop inand steal our childhoods,give us tunnel vision,like the quest for the Holy Grail,tempt us with a happily ever after,yes, love is very easy to find,but much harder work to keep.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

This is a meme I did on Facebook a while back, but I never posted it here. It was so much fun to do, you may want to pass it on to your friends.

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 15 people you like and include me. You can’t use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It’s a lot harder than you think! Repost as “my life according to (band name).”

Monday, December 14, 2009

I'm am proud to present the first photo of my new grandbaby - currently nicknamed The Tadpole - at 12 weeks of age. I know, not much to look at yet, but I am so excited! The Tadpole is due in June 2010, and we are hoping by December 22nd - next week - we will know if it is a girl or a boy. I really don't care what sex Tadpole is, I just want him or her to be healthy.

This is a picture of Marie, The Tadpole's mommy. Soon I'll have pix of mommy and daddy both up for you to see.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Exciting news! One of my non-fiction essays was chosen as a finalist in The New Southerner 2009 Literary Prize Contest! My essay - "I Dream of My Past" - will appear in a future issue of the magazine and in the 2009-2010 Anthology.

"I Dream of My Past" is a piece I wrote about my grandparents farm and the experiences I had there. After the piece has been published, I will post it here for everyone to read.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Oak leaves dance and twirllike a brown whirlwind littering the airas the unusual Windsday blows through.Robins going from treetop to treeteeter off course in the gusty gale.Bags, napkins and other garbagetake flight to pollute other areas.Flags snap to attention,stiff in the cold air;weak tree branches break and bow,as young saplings dip to the ground.Ladies over 60 protect tightly permed hairwith plastic rain caps,while the under 40 crowd let their hairblow wildly in the storm.Garbage cans, Christmas decorations and all manner of yard arthave been gobbled up by the currentand deposited down the street.Umbrellas turn inside out and no longer protect from the rain,and doors are ripped wide open with the cold, wet blast.Makes you kind of wonder if mistral gusts are meant to scare us awayor draft us closer together,or maybe it is angel kisses from on highgiving us a whiff of what's to come.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Monday, December 7, 2009

Driven by fear and desperation,the hours tick byas faint whispers of panic become louder,a suspected truth unable to be seen.

A brewing storm buffets the angry spirits,coming out of a dim past to pound against the wallsdemanding attention.Thunder echoes with the whine of rising wind,emptiness seems alive with a fright and tensionthat builds on a single terrifying fact –We are mortal.

Moment by moment, a tight coil of tension,drawn to the breaking point,seems like years which have halted the flow of time;rooted in the walls of hearts and souls.

A instant of quiet,the unending chill of terror,as the hand of death brushes close;then moves away, stirring the musty airwith a touch filled with overwhelming scents ofanxiety and dread.My time has not come.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Sorrow creeps in,a step at a time,and eases its way into life;robbing the soul,tainting the aura,changing the essence of happier days.Worry, anticipation, anxiety and stressreplace the happy go lucky,marring the image of pleasant memories,drowning shadows of times gone by.Why does it happen when you least expect it?And when will it go away?For sorrow is no friend,when it drags you downand invades your subconsciouswithout a sound.

The sun seemed to shine brighter when I was a little girl,fresh dew covered grass would sparkle with the eastern raysand a new day would dawn with excitement and daydreams.Children were free to roam at willwith no fear of snatching or molestation,and every stay-at-home mom would monitorall the kids if they gathered in their yards.Lunchtime would arrive with the rumble of tummiesand we’d fill up on sandwiches and sugar laden Kool-Aid.Moms would try the old standby of “it’s naptime right now,”but they’d only be lucky if we rested our eyesbefore we dashed for the doors again.No complaints of “I’m bored” or “there’s nothing to do,”because children were able to imagine the possibilities of games to playand exercise a vivid attention to detail.Dusk would arrive with a flicker of fireflies,floating on the nighttime airand each child would dance through the grassas they tried to catch the lights to fill up Mason jars for one night.And pleasant dreams would always come as the children nodded offto the tiny glow of lightening bugs in dreaming childhood shadows.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The first day I saw him,smiling at me from the shelf,I knew he could be mine,Ted E. Bear,that cute little charmerwith brown fur and eyes.I knew I was a grown woman,long too old for childish toys,but Ted E. was differentand I longed to hold him tight.And once in my possessionI knew he was the right fit,but little did I know that Ted E. had a mission.As if by magic,I was smiling and laughing againand I felt like a child once more;and I owe it all to a teddy bear my hubby bought,Mr. Ted E. Bear, my friend.

Just a shadow of my former self,the ticking clock moves on,leaving behind a carefree girland replacing with a lonely shell.There are echos of happinessin the recesses of my mind,but they are harder to find,trapped in an ever turning loopbehind the dark shadows of time.No more ponytails or Indian sandals,no Chinese jumprope or Red Rover, Red Rover,no long afternoon walksor wild motorcycle rides,the simple life is gone.When your head-over-heels first time lovethrows a hand grenade at your life,the dark shadows come flowing in.After the first time, the next are easier,and long before you know it,your locked away inside yourselfand each bad turn buries you deeper awayand dark shadows swallow your soul.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Hiding from the world,sealed away by choice;fearful of what?Heart palpitations, cold clammy sweat,feeling the world is out to get me,irrational thoughts won't go away.There's a safety in cloisterwith comfort items aroundin every pile of books you'll see,offering a calm serene.Many call it nesting,having treasured items within easy reach,but when this behavior continues onand interrupts your life,this nesting syndrome has gone too farand a solution must be found,only ...rapid breathing takes over again,and the tightness in the chest returns,these aren't only mental ailments,but physical manifestations,so I hid from the world again.

Silver tinsel shimmers and reflectsthe multi-colored lights -red, yellow, green, pink and blue -a glistening holiday sight.Although much better than trees from the past,a silver tree is still uniquewith the characteristics of its green counterparts,but daintier, fuller, unusually pretty.Memories of vintage 70s treeswithout the retro color wheel,no Christmas lights could be appliedand only round glass balls were allowed.O, how the colored lights were missed,but these trees were all the rageand for a few holiday seasonsthey were displayed with pride,until the next fade came to town.Things have changed in 40 years,C9s replaced by multi-stringsand most mass produced ornaments are no longer glass,but made from unbreakable plastic for keeps.The new little tree is nostalgic in color and size,but modernized to accept miniature lightsand the eclectic array of ornamentscollected from year to year.

Tension seems endless,torn with concern,steep and winding,and it twists and turnslike hidden secrets from the past.Early morning memories are like mist,raising vague memories of a forgotten dream.Mysteries echo and reach out,mysteries of a past unturned;on the surface calm and serene,but heavy with undercurrentsa web of confusion draws the anxiety deeper into the corelike a raised spector of yesteryear,intruding on the future.Unreasonable hatred can unlockthe dark corridors and musty corners,turning the tension into a symbol of strengthto unlock the secrets of the future.

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about reading/blogging during the holidays:

How does your reading (or your blogging) fare in the holiday months? Do you read more or less? Do you have to actively make time to read?

My reading and my blogging both seem to suffer during the holiday season - there are just so many things you can fit into one day. I still carve out time to read on a daily basis, but the bulk of my holiday reading is during the weekends. I also continue to blog everyday, albeit the posts maybe short and sweet.

I also try to make time for my other writings during this time of year - poems, short stories, essays or other articles. I usually wake up an hour earlier (with the exception of this morning when I slept in) and try to do a little writing before work. I also write during my lunch hour, many times instead of eating. If I don't find time to write everyday, I feel like something is missing from my life, so writing is always near the top of my list.

The dark dragon has me again,clasped tightly in his steely claws.Why does he invade my life at this festive time of year,dragging me down to the depths of hellwhere my life passes before my eyesin a neverending stream of sorrow?I've known the good and joyousand my heart beats daily for my cherished loves.I know my life is rich and blessedand there is so much more to come,but the dragon has other plansand although he only owns a tiny piece of my soul,this tiny piece can grab and holdwith determination and perseverance.I try to be strong,but I'm oh so weak,so I end up in the mire,wallowing in self-pity,too may locked doors to escape.I want to be free to smell the clean airand absorb the love of my family,but the dragon's thick hide has been transferred to meas I sink ever deep to the pit below.

Monday, November 23, 2009

This is a short little poem I have written for my unborn grandchild - at this point I don't know if it is a girl or a boy, but I have used the pronoun he throughout. Please don't take this as a sign I'm wishing for a boy - I want a healthy and happy grandchild and I don't care if it's a boy or a girl.

From Sprouted Acorn to Mighty Oak

By Bobbi Rightmyer

My little oak treeis a speciall little oak treeand I carry him close to my heart.Although he's just a litt spourt,I know one day he'll be a tall and mighty oak tree.A main stem trunk that istrue, straight and strong;outreaching branches to touch so many soulsof the loved one in his life.His roots will go deepand be anchored downwith compassion, strength, history, wisdom and love;planted to to help him grow intothe fabulous person he will become.You are my first,but hopefully not the last,and although you will hold a place secure in my heart,there is room for more to grow.

What books did you read while in school? Were there any that you particular liked, or even hated? Did any become lifelong favourites?

I read mostly fiction when I was in school, so I guess this is the reason I've had a life-long addiction to fiction reading. Some of my favorites in school were:

A Wrinkle in Time

The Betsy Books (B is for Betsy, Betsy's Little Star, etc.)

The Trixie Belden series

The Wizard of Oz series (the original books by Frank L. Baum)

Alice in Wonderland

Through the Looking Glass

Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret

The Three Investigators series

Little Women

The Lord of the Rings series

Most of these books I still love as an adult. When my girls were younger, these are the first books I bought for them, and although they may not still enjoy them now, they still hold a place in my heart.

Red and white swirlsshaped like a shepherd’s crook,is this an obvious reference tothe shepherds tending their flock by night?But when you invert this classic shapewhat to my wondering eyes should I see,just the letter “J”, a simple Jmaybe to remind us of the Christ child, Jesus.Pure white color, the exact shade of snowor does it signify the virgin birthpurity proclaimed from on high.And what of the red,just another jolly color of the season,or the blood of Christ for all to see?Peppermint flavor with a hint of a bite,or the occasional cinnamon taste as a change of pace,are these just the spices used todayto replace the frankincense and myrrh of old?And the sugar is sweet and oh so addictingwhether eaten alone or stirred in a cup of cocoa,maybe this is a sign that God’s words are addictingand offering an love everlasting.

For this Christmas season, my writing mentor has challenged us to write a non-typical holiday story - something unusual. One of his suggestions was to write a story about Mary and the Manger - I decided to do a poem. This is an intimate look at the birth of Christ from the Holy mother and the blessed manager's point of view.

Mary and the MangerBy Bobbi Rightmyer

The day’s been long and I’m so very tired,but there is nowhere for us to sleep.My burden is heavy with the blessed one,so I’ll carry on the best I can.

I’m sorry, little mother, vessel of the Holy one,but my comfort is crudely made of wood and hay;And although I nourish the lowly beasts,I promise to provide warmth to the child.

An inn should be the proper placefor the birth of this precious son;But with no room to find, no place to spare,I’ll settle for your cozy little shelter.

Now I lay me down to sleep,the prophesized child is born;But God above took away my fears, my painand guided me through the night.Now my precious child is hereand the world has one last hope.

O, what a beautiful boy, this glorious child of God;And thou my accommodations are not grand or spacious,they hold all the love and hope of kings.I’ll keep him safe, I’ll keep him warmin this stable in Bethlehem.

Monday, November 16, 2009

The trees are naked, barestanding tall and straight.Leaves litter the groundlike a patch worn carpetor old rag rugcovering the still green grasswith crumples of brown.Birds are chirpingcalling out a joyful tune,singing with happiness at the glorious day.Squirrels are scamperingunafraid of the few lingering cars,scavenging for food,thick, bushy tails riding high in the air.A car backfires on some not far streetand all is quiet as the world goes on pause,but after a few still seconds the chorus begins,and the wildlife sounds can be heard again.Sunshine straining through thick, gray clouds,warmth on my face from the hazy glare,with a cool breeze dancing across my skin,causing a gentle sway to the trees.The shrubbery and hedges are still holding ontoleaves and fruit galore,It’s that time of year again,the rapidly approaching winterwhen all life’s chores come in a fast succession,preparing for the long, dark daysof winter yet to come.

With the holiday season now upon us, have you left any hint – subtle or otherwise – for books family and friends might buy you for Christmas? Do you like to receive books, or do you prefer certificates so you can choose your own?

My hints aren't exactly subtle - I usually give my family a list of the books I'm wanting. I try to list them in order of my greatest "wantingness" but I'm always adding to the list, so that is sometime hard to do.

I prefer to receive books because I like for my family to inscribe them to me. It more meaningful to me if my hubby or my daughters write a little something inside each book - it's that special little touch I never get tired of.

However, if it's someone I don't see very often, I would rather have a gift certificate, just to make sure I get a book I'm really looking forward to.

Some of the books on this years Christmas Wish List:

The Scarpetta Factor by Patricia Cornwell

Dracula by Dacre Stoker

The Laughing Corpse (Graphic Novel, Book #1) by Laurell K. Hamilton

American on Purpose by Craig Ferguson

Angel Time by Anne Rice

Shadowland by Alyson Noel

Heat Wave by Richard Castle (Yes, I know this is a gimmick book, but I love this TV series)

Friday, November 13, 2009

Although my sister, Amy, is always on my mind, the month of November is especially hard because it is her birth month. Amy would have been 44 years old this coming November 19th - love ya, Sis ...

Last Trip With Amy

Pigeon Forge, TennesseeOn top of Serenity MountainArts and Crafts CommunityEating candy in the VillageAdopt-A-BearElkhorn Plaza and the Best Italian RestaurantKeith and Theodore E. TeddyCar acting up – the alternator went outWaiting for Joey the mechanic to fix us upChristmas lights through GatlinburgGetting home – watching Almost FamousJacuzzi soaks and double-headed showersChit chats on the wrap around deckSleeping with abandon,Until heading home again

Monday, November 9, 2009

Does your house have a communal bookshelf? If not, is your bookshelf centrally located so everyone has access to it?

I guess you could say our bookshelves are centrally located - we have one or more in each room of the house. Yes, that includes the bathroom! My hubby, daughter and I are all avid readers, so our home is full of books.

There are currently 4 bookcases in our living room - all crammed full of mostly my books. Young adult fiction is taking up the most room, but I also have a large number of books by Kentucky authors. The bookshelf in the kitchen is really inside a cabinet and it holds all my cookbooks. We each have our own separate bookcases in our bedrooms.

Of course, with so many books, we also have them spilling off the couch and tables, as well as several piles in different corners. In my opinion, you can never have too many books!!

Monday, November 2, 2009

How much of your reading do you share with others (outside of blogging?) Do you belong to a book or library club? Do you trade books with friends? Do you tell others what you’re reading?

I love to share with others what I'm reading or have read. Besides having 2 book review blogs - Bobbi's Book Nook and MCPL Book Nook - I have a weekly book review column in THE HARRODSBURG HERALD and I do freelance book reviews for KENTUCKY MONTHLY Magazine. I also post my reviews on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, GoodReads, Jacket Flap, I'm Reading (Facebook) and Shelfari. I have also started a Facebook group for my book review blog, Bobbi's Book Nook (please come join me!) and I routinely link my book reviews to Facebook and Twitter.

Yes, sometimes my friends get tired of hearing my talk about books all the time! But I also have a group of friends who love to read and hear about what I'm reading, so it is for these people (and myself) that I keep ranting on about great books.

I also belong to a local book club at the Mercer Public Library in Kentucky - the Mercer Library Lunch Bunch Book Club. We meet on the 4th Tuesday of every month and typically have from 8 to 15 participants. This month we are reading THE RED TENT by Anita Diamant (a book I read many years ago and loved!) - I am rereading the book for the second time to refresh my memory. We get together at lunch time, bring a sack lunch, and spend an hour discussing our likes and dislikes of the current book. You get a wide range of perspectives because our participants range in age from 28 to 70+, plus, we have lots of fun.

Because most of my local friends are not readers, I don't usually swap books, but occasionally I will send a book to a friend far away. I'm a huge book whore, so I usually hold on to almost all of my books!

Sunday, November 1, 2009

She spoke to me like a flicker of air swept by in a dreamGentle kisses in the ear making me feel wanted and loved;She’s been gone so long it’s been almost five yearsAnd yet I can still feel her in my heart.She caresses the inner sanctity opens my wounds with a flick of her wings,Then she smiles and says, “thank you for being there today.”Her first grandchild she will never know, but will watch from her chair high above.Every kiss, every prayer, every loving moment in timeCaptured internally and filed away, ready to recapture the joy.We will give her earthly love and vigor,You will give her angel kisses;She will grow and thrive and capture the lightFulfilling her destiny unwritten.She’ll have much hugged awards, atta girls, aren’t you sweetBut she’ll also have memories and history and cherishments.Yes, we will raise her and see she does rightAnd she will know the grandmotherly love, though the package may seem strangeShe will know the love you are givingYou don’t have to worry we will make sure she knows,That granny’s my sis and we all miss her so,But she’ll live in your heart and your soul.

Just when I should be having the time of my life,I thought I wasn't completeunless I had that one perfect someone to call my own.Instead of hanging out with my friends,I was caught in the loop of pleasing my man.My heart would beat faster aseach class bell rang,knowing we could steal brief moments, scheduling our after school timeso we were always together;in hindsight it was probably not the thing to do.But the excitement and joy and tummy butterflies was a highwe both sought to obtain.Did the good outweigh the bad?Obviously it did because we ended up together, at least for a short time.The problem is, it wasn't enoughto satisfy the itch we both had deep down inside for something more,something special to fulfill an aching need.So we crashed and burned,engulfed by flames in a magnificent bonfireof heated words, angry acquisitions, finger pointing and screaming;Two lives torn apart, two souls ripped asunder,but the fallout damage affected much more,and it would be years before the collateral was known.Looking back the path is quiet clear,even a child could see the course.So why was I so blind at the time not to see the outcomewhen it was right before my eyes?I guess love really is blind and it has the abilityto swoop in and steal a childhood, give tunnel vision goals,like the quest for the Holy Grail

and tempts us with a happily ever after.

I'm conquering my inner demons and to do that, I realize I'm going to have to revisit some painful things from my past. Sorry if the poetry/prose gets a little dark. ~~BDR

The Reviler sometimes arrive as innocently as the wings of a doveSoft and light like the whisper of a butterflyShe loves you and makes you feel secureLaughs at your jokes, thinks you’re something specialPulls you in close, makes you one of the foldWhen in essence it was all a false sense of security.By the time the dagger sliced my heart in twoI was privy to the vile, ugly side of her lifeI saw every canker and soreFestering with impotent rancor at a base of self propaganda.For a time, I was lost, only seeking the comfort to make me feel needed;But when that phase came to an endI hesitated but a momentthen followed again with my heart.

Delicate little blossom born into this worldEverything is open wide and laying at her precious fingertipsSo many lessons to be learned, so many moments to enjoyIdeal vessel for storing the memories of our livesRosy cheeks, a dimpled chin round little head and sweet little soundEmbraced in love and held close to our heartsEternal bond we hope never will be broken

Friday, October 30, 2009

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Did you know The Eagles wrote "Hotel California" in 1976. Ironically, they used to open for Jethro Tull in the early '70's and Jethro Tull has a song called "We Used To Know" (from the album STAND UP) which was writen in 1969. If you listen to "We Used to Know" you will see how much like "Hotel California" it sounds. I love Jethro Tull and I also love the Eagles - but it makes me wonder ....

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

My niece, Ashley, just had her baby tonight - 6:14 pm. Desiree Carter weighs 7 pounds and 10 ounces and is 21 inches long. She has a head full of hair and a great set of lungs.

Because of the flu precautions at the hospital, we are not able to visit with me niece or my great niece, so I'll post pictures as soon as I can.

It's going to be so exciting - the first baby in our family for several years. The 2 youngest grandchildren are 16 and 17. We'll have a baby again for Christmas - it will be so fun. Next year, with the addition of my new grandbaby, we'll have 2 little ones for Christmas!

Monday - late again, today, he'd be in trouble thoughHe'd say he was sorry, he'd have to hurry out the bus.

Tuesday - Horace was so sad, he'd never had a girl that heCould care for, and if he was late once more, he'd be out.

Chorus

Don't be afraid, just knock on the door,Well he just stood there mumblin' and fumblin'.Then a voice from above said -Horace wimp, this is your life,Go out and find yourself a wife.Make a stand and be a man,And you will have a great life plan.

Wednesday - Horace met a girl, she was small and sheWas very pretty, he thought he was in love, he was afraid.

Thursday - asks her for a date, the cafe down the streetTomorrow evening, his head was reeling,When she said yes o.k.

Repeat chorus

Friday- Horace, this is it, he asks the girl if maybe theyCould marry, when she says gladly. Horace cries.

Sunday - everybodys at the church, when HoraceRushes in and says now here come my wife,For the rest of my life. and she did.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Do you take notes while reading – either for your reviews or for yourself? How/where do you make these notes (on the page, post-its, scrap paper, notebooks etc)?

I am a notorious note taker when it comes to reading books, but it's because I want to remember so many things. Although I always read for pleasure, almost all the books I read end up being reviewed. I have a separate notebook I keep all the notes from books I'm reviewing. I also am a huge fan of "sticky notes" so my books are usually crammed full of them. This helps me when I'm looking for a specific passage I want to use in a review.

When I started my book review blog over 2 years ago, it was mainly going to be a way for me to keep track of the 100s of books I read every year. However, about 6 months into blogging, the book reviews began to take on a life of their own and before long, I was receiving review books in the mail. You don't know what a rush it is for a book whore like me to come home from work and find a box of books on my doorstep!

For many, many months I accepted any and all offers to read and review books, but I quickly learned this was not going to work for me. I was getting such a wide variety of books I was overwhelmed. Although I occasionally enjoy a self-help book on certain topics, many of the books I received were just that. I was also receiving many self-published books, which there is nothing wrong with, but many of these books could do with a good editor.

I finally realized I had bitten off more than I could chew - or read - so I quit requesting every new book that came down the pipeway. Now I only review books I think I will truly be interested in and my life is much happier and not as hectic.

I am currently still on a young adult book kick - mainly series books - so I was thrilled to receive a huge shipment of books last week from Candlewick Press. I did not know about this publishing house until I read Silas House's new book, ELI THE GOOD. Out of courtesy, I always send the publisher a copy of any book reviews I do, but when I check out their website, I was amazed at the collection of books I was interested in. Now I'm like a kid on Christmas morning wading through book about glorious book, so stayed tuned for many upcoming reviews.

I also have a keen interest in Kentucky authors and I try to read all I can get my hands on. The Kentucky Book Fair is coming up November 7th and I have already started making my list of which authors I want to meet and which books I want to buy. It should be very exciting.

Friday, October 23, 2009

If you haven't checked out my friend, Dan Felstead's, photography blog - Wood and Pixels Narratives - you really should take the time. Dan takes some of the most unusual and beautiful photographs. I like him so much because he always takes pictures of the things I enjoy looking at. Leave him a comment and tell him what you think - and check out his archive of older photos. He has never failed to inspire my muse to writing projects!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Oh, I'm so excited I may wet myself!! I was just contacted by KENTUCKY MONTHLY magazine to do a freelance article for the December/January issue! I'm on a tight deadline - 2 weeks - but I am so excited. I'll be doing an article on homemade gifts to have for unexpected gift giving. I'm going to to my Fireside Coffee, Turkey Noodle Soup in a jar, Cookies in a jar, Sugar Body Scrub and Bath Salts. I just wanted to spread the joy around!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

I wanted to share this with you - it is written by my 17 year old daughter. Several months ago, an 20 month old baby from Kentucky swallowed chemicals from a meth lab and eventually died a horrible death. This is my daughter's interpretation - from the point of view of the meth lab. Chilling ...

Dear Worldby Christine Rightmyer

I killed a little boy last night. In the emergency room, he kicked, and screamed, and then he just...died. Like he didn't even think about it - it was not a big deal to him. He swallowed my liquid fire from a tea cup sitting on the stove, surrounded by disinfectants and old Bic lighters. It wasn't my fault he was twenty months old. He didn't know any better and neither did I.

I can only imagine what it felt like for him, the flames traveling down his esophagus, settling in his stomach. Caress the ribcage, tap the sternum. I wonder if his heart began to beat a little bit faster before the fire hit his small intestine. The temperature began to rise, a boil starting to turn. I'll bet he started to choke and cry, spit bubbling out of his tiny pink mouth. He starts to quake, flailing against cold linoleum. Grandfather notices, before it dawns on him what exactly he has done. He stares at the tea cup face down on the floor, then at his grandson, who is no longer shaking.

About Me

I am a married mother of 3 grown daughters and I have 2 granddaughters and 1 grandson. I currently have a gardening column in the Sunday's Advocate Messenger and I freelance for Kentucky Monthly magazine and Examiner.com.